I have to confess to two silly things that happened to me this week.
I have been doing the rider mower to help Gary out because it takes him 2 hours just to do the push mower parts around the trees, edges, near the woods, blah, blah, blah. He is worn out from doing that. Plus, John seems to give up weekends to help and we hate using his free time to help us every weekend. So I am back on the rider this year. It's so bumpy riding on our uneven yard that I am really tired from that and the sun when I am done. Whine, whine, whine.
What I am getting at is: there is no lady-like way to get on the rider. And if you have a bad knee and a big butt, you are doubly doomed. I don't want the neighbors to see me get on or off because Gary is laughing so hard it gets me laughing and after being on it two hours, I have to pee so bad that I get mad at him for making me laugh.
He does the outside perimeter so I don't get thorns in my legs from the briars in the back. Then I try to get on. My arms are too short to reach the throttle so he does that and puts it in gear and off I go. There are 6 gears and we mow on #4 at medium speed.
As soon as I took off, I wiggled to get seated better and knocked it into #6 gear which had me taking off at light speed and I am too shocked to know what to do! O My!
I am flying across the yard, not following the mow tracks and I can hear Gary yelling, put it in the right gear, slow down, yadda, yadda, yadda. I felt like Lucy Ricardo. Finally I bumped it in #4 and got my bearings. I do not want to know if the neighbors saw me!
Today I needed a length of navy fabric that I already have but needed 2 more yards of to start a project. We drove to a shop in Mt. Vernon and came home and decided to eat at Buck's. It's Friday and it's crowded. I have my hair up in a clip; it was hot out. Talked to waitress and the shop lady earlier. Came home, got into my old clothes.........
The shirt I was wearing the whole time was on inside out.
Gary didn't even notice, but I bet everyone else did. O my!
I know this is long, but one last thing. At Gary's uncle's funeral yesterday, it was a brief service at the funeral home. The "preacher" was also helping park cars outside. Gary's uncle's name is Gordon Howard. This preacher referred to him twice as "Mr. Henderson". O my! A lady in the seats finally blurted out, HOWARD. How awful was that! I felt like I was in that Seinfeld episode where they are burying Elaine's make believe friend. Then the preacher kept referring to him as Mr. Gordon. I had to keep from giggling and Gary and I kept nudging each other. Bet his uncle was somewhere getting a laugh from it all. How awful not to get your name right at your funeral.
I hope you all have a better weekend than my week was!!!
